


On Nights Like These

by WynterRobin



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Bromance, Brotherly Bonding, Gen, Underage drinking maybe?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 19:39:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11951226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WynterRobin/pseuds/WynterRobin
Summary: “What are you doing here Jason?”Jason looked at him then, a short sidelong glance, eyes narrowing before he crooked a bitter smile.“Am I infringing on your turf babybird? Because that’s too bad, it was mine first. Youknow, before I died, or whatever,”Or, where Jason and Tim drink together on a roof. That's it, that's the story.





	On Nights Like These

  
Tim found Jason sitting on the roof of an old cathedral, legs dangling over the ledge and a bottle of something that looked suspiciously like alcohol gripped loosely in his fingers. 

It was past midnight, and Tim was just finishing up his patrol route. He liked to end his night on this side of town, from this high up you could easily see out over the docks. The calm black waters glimmering in the moonlight reminded Tim that there was some serenity around here, even if he didn’t often see it.

Meeting Jason was one of the last things that Tim would have expected, and he was rarely caught off guard by anything anymore. He dropped down onto the decrepit stone cautiously, approaching his predecessor with a wary gaze. Jason didn’t so much as glance at him as he came to a halt next to the crumbling stone gargoyle that was serving as the other man’s only company. 

“What’s up Replacement? If you’re looking for a fight I’m gonna have to pass this time, sorry to disappoint,” Jason took another swig from the bottle, setting it down beside him and leaning back on his hands. 

Tim furrowed his eyebrows behind his mask, assessing the situation. Jason was in his Red Hood gear, but the hood was discarded on the rooftop, only leaving his domino to shield his face from Tim’s scrutinising gaze. There was blood on his jacket, a single streak drying rust brown along his jaw, but as there were no obvious wounds it was fair to assume it wasn’t his. 

“What are you doing here Jason?”   
Jason looked at him then, a short sidelong glance, eyes narrowing before he crooked a bitter smile. “Am I infringing on your turf babybird? Because that’s too bad, it was mine first. Youknow, before I died, or whatever,” 

Tim frowned. He knew Jason drank, but he also knew it was mostly for show. He’d never seen him quite like this, listless and brooding and very unmotivated to fuck Tim up either emotionally or physically. And Tim knew he shouldn’t care. God, he really shouldn’t. This guy had tried to murder him on numerous occasions, had even come close once. 

But the fucked up thing was that Tim did care. Because even though Jason went against nearly every moral code Tim had, or had had instilled in him throughout the years, he had been his hero once. And he understood things about the life Tim lead that so few others could even guess at. 

So maybe that was why, instead of shrugging him off and heading home, Tim stayed rooted to the spot, hand resting tentatively on the gargoyle’s head. “Do you want to talk about it?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth he regretted them. Such sentiments were stupid and meaningless when it came to people like them. Because fuck it, some of the stuff they’d been through was far too horrendous to simply put into words. 

Jason scoffed, picking up the bottle to take another swig. “Either sit down or go home Tim. God, you were always an awkward fucker,” He tried not to wince at the insult, instead taking a seat a relatively safe distance from Jason on the ledge, leaning against the gargoyle. 

Tim knew he was awkward, that he never fit in like everyone else seemed to do so seamlessly. He was too wrapped up in himself, shrouded by wariness and a deeply instilled unwillingness to trust without reason, and a lot of the time that was just too exhausting to overcome. But Tim was trying. Even if Jason didn’t know that, or didn’t care. 

Jason passed him the bottle, and Tim was surprised to find that he actually wanted to drink from it. So he did. He brought it to his lips and tilted his head back, coughing at the harsh burn and wiping his mouth on the back of his glove. Jason chuckled, taking the bottle back and gulping down more of the clear liquid without so much as a grimace. Just another mark of the differences between them; Tim’s usual drinks consisted of expensive italian wine at charity balls. 

“Tim Drake-Wayne drinking on the job. What would Bats think?” Jason laughed again, but it wasn’t cruel. Tim shrugged. “What Bruce doesn’t know won’t hurt him. And I needed this,” He didn’t know that was true until the words were out of his mouth. Maybe it was the fact that Jason didn’t give a shit, or the fact that he probably wouldn’t remember anyway, that loosened his tongue, made him relax his shoulders as he took the bottle back and took another swig. 

This time he was prepared, only wincing at the bitter taste the alcohol left in his mouth. Jason nodded approvingly, head lolling to the side a little as he appraised Tim. “Not too bad kid. Maybe that stick’s not as far up your ass as I thought,” Tim snorted, shaking his head and taking another drink before passing the bottle back. “Bruce can’t get everything he wants. The teenage rebellion had to happen eventually,” “Beggers can’t be choosers,” Jason agreed, tilting his head back to look at the sky. 

Tim followed his gaze, taking in the clear expanse of deep blue space above them, stars washed out by the city lights and a little hazy thanks to effects of alcohol. 

“Fucks you up more than you’d think, doesn’t it?” He didn’t know if Jason meant the view above them, bigger and brighter than they would ever feel again, or the life they lead, so much darker and bloodier than they had dreamed about as kids. He nodded anyway, because both were true. “Yeah. Shit. It does,” Jason hummed. 

They sat in silence for a while, the tension between them dissapating completely until they were shoulder to shoulder, using each other for support as they passed the now nearly empty bottle back and forth. 

“Did you ever notice Bruce’s eye twitch?” Tim hiccupped, eyes widening at Jason. “You mean the one he gets when he’s pissed off? Jason inquired, tone amused. Tim nodded. “I used to get that all the damned time, Jesus,”   
“And his shoe organisational system. It’s like. So suburban mom,” Tim’s laugh was embarrassingly close to a giggle, and Jason chuckled, shoulders shaking. 

“Youknow babybird. You’re alright,” he slurred lazily, eyes hooded now as he gazed out over the city lights. “Even if you are an uptight son of a bitch,” he added, almost as an afterthought. Tim nudged Jason with his shoulder playfully. “Why thank you Mr. Hood,” 

Jason raised an eyebrow at him. “Mr Hood? Kid you are fucked, aren’t you?” Tim shook his head resolutely. “M'just tipsy,” Jason nodded, a little too exaggeratedly to be sober. “Right. Suuure,” He reached over Tim to grab onto the gargoyle, using it to hoist himself to his feet. Tim whined in protest, leaning back to frown up at him. “Where are you going?” 

“I think it’s time to get you home to Daddy Bats kid,” “I said m'fine,” Tim argued, but accepted the hand that Jason offered to help him up. “I don’t wanna go home. Bruce’ll be smad,” “Smad?” Tim nodded seriously. “It’s a combination of sad and mad,” Jason sighed, running a hand messily through his hair. “Fine. You can crash at mine. But just this once,” 

Tim grinned doppily, and Jason sighed again. He was already too sober for this, and he was pretty sure he was still drunk. “C'mon then kid,” He wrapped an arm around the younger’s shoulders to support him as they made their way back to Jason’s safe house, half listening to Tim’s giddy rambling and trying not to laugh because it seemed to only encourage him. 

He made a mental note to throw a text to Dick when they got back, to let him and Bruce know that their baby bird was safe. Or, that he wasn’t kidnapped or bleeding out in a street, at least. He was pretty sure that 'safe' was not the word they would use to describe being with Jason. There was a goofy grin tugging at his lips that he couldn’t seem to wipe off his face, even though he tried. This wasn’t what Jason had planned when he set out to see his old gargoyle friend from his Robin days and drink his troubles away, but he found that he didn’t care. It wasn’t what he had wanted, but maybe it was what he needed. And fuck it, if he was going to regret it then that could wait until tomorrow. Right now he had other things to worry about. Like getting both himself and Tim up the stairs.


End file.
